{"id":3753,"date":"2020-07-27T09:00:38","date_gmt":"2020-07-27T16:00:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/?p=3753"},"modified":"2020-07-27T09:00:38","modified_gmt":"2020-07-27T16:00:38","slug":"the-same-woman-donna-again","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/archives\/3753","title":{"rendered":"The Same Woman (Donna Again)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

October 2021. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew is seventy-three and a widower now for two\nand a half months. Having eaten little since Luisa\u2019s death, he is thinner than\nhe has ever been, his gray hair full of white.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sits on the sofa in the cozy one-room studio\nwhere Donna, tall and buxom with short red hair and also seventy-three, conducts\nher business as rabbi and psychotherapist. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLook at me, sweetheart,\u201d says Donna, sitting in\nan armchair facing Andrew, her accent Los Angeles Jewish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew looks at his friend and counselor of the\nlast twenty years and for a moment sees Luisa\u2019s face instead of Donna\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTalk to me,\u201d she says softly. \u201cSay anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They have been sitting quietly for twenty minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Did Cal drive\nme here? No. Cal lives in Hawaii now. Diana brought me. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell me how you met Luisa,\u201d says Donna, speaking\nof Andrew\u2019s wife of thirty-four years, her suicide a terrible shock to everyone\nwho knew her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKindergarten,\u201d says Andrew, remembering the first\ntime he saw Luisa\u2019s daughter Lily swinging high on the swings at the\nMontessori. \u201cOwen and Lily\u2026\u201d He stops speaking, his language center shutting\ndown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe brought Lily to your house for a play date\nwith Owen,\u201d says Donna, knowing the story well. \u201cAnd you liked each other\ninstantly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew nods and begins to cry, which is what Donna\nwas hoping for, to break the dam holding back his tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Donna has been a widow for five years. Her husband\nHoward was twelve years older than she. After suffering with increasing\ndementia for two years, he blessedly succumbed to pneumonia. Donna is currently\ndating a youngster in his sixties named Herschel, and is in the midst of\npassing the reins of the shul to another feminist rabbi.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Andrew stops crying, Donna says, \u201cYou need to\ntell a part of Luisa\u2019s story every day. That\u2019s how you\u2019ll heal. Trust me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe I don\u2019t want to heal,\u201d he says, glaring at her.\n\u201cMaybe I want to die, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe you do,\u201d says Donna, nodding. \u201cBut I don\u2019t\nthink so. I think you want to be alive for your children and grandchildren, and\nfor your friends and for yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI killed her,\u201d he says, bowing his head. \u201cTaking\non Teo and Rosa was too much to ask of her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not true. You both wanted Teo and Rosa.\nAnd Jalecia. Luisa\u2019s granddaughter. She asked of you what you asked of her. Am\nI wrong? I don\u2019t think so. She confided in me for twenty years. She was adamant\nthe children stay with you and not go with Adrianna.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut Teo and Rosa wouldn\u2019t have existed,\u201d he says,\ncrushed by his grief, \u201cif I hadn\u2019t stupidly mated with Adrianna. Stupid animal\nme.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeautiful animal you,\u201d says Donna, calmly. \u201cGod\ngives us life in mysterious ways. You were a vehicle for God\u2019s desire to bring your\nchildren into the world. And you and Luisa did a fabulous job bringing them up,\nand you will complete the job.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr die trying,\u201d says Andrew, who always\neventually reverts to his Jewish self when he spends time with Donna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWatch out, bubalah,\u201d she says, grinning at him. \u201cWe\nmight start laughing and then how will we grieve?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGrieve schmeeve,\u201d he says, laughing through his\ntears. \u201cI need some good deli.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought you\u2019d never ask,\u201d she says, getting up.\n\u201cCome on. I\u2019ll drive us to Max\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Donna pilots her electric car through the\nlunchtime traffic of Vancouver, the coronavirus pandemic ongoing, many of the\npedestrians masked, though Vancouver and Canada have not been much affected\ncompared to the catastrophe in the United States.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They sit by an open window in the deli and split an\norder of fries and a hot pastrami sandwich on rye with sauerkraut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was starving,\u201d says Andrew, hailing their\nmasked waitress. \u201cCould I get a cup of coffee, please?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTwo,\u201d says Donna, raising her hand. \u201cI never\nthink I want coffee until after, and then midway through the sandwich I crave\nthe bitter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy mother always said, \u2018Save the coffee for the\ncookies,\u2019\u201d says Andrew, his eyes filing with tears as he thinks of his\nlong-departed mother, \u201cbut I just can\u2019t wait.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The waitress brings two mugs of black stuff and\nsays to Andrew, \u201cYou probably don\u2019t recognize me with my mask on. Delilah\nBernstein. I was in Moon In Leo.<\/em> The\ndeli scene. You are such<\/em> a good\ndirector. In fact, I got this job because I was in that movie. Max is a huge\nfan. He saw the movie seven times in the theatre and watches the video all the\ntime.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see you now,\u201d says Andrew, imagining her face without the mask. \u201cYou were great.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI hear Character Driven is gearing up to make\nanother movie,\u201d she says, nodding hopefully. \u201cCan I give you my card?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, sure, but you should call my son,\u201d says Andrew,\nstarting to cry. \u201cYou know Owen. He\u2019ll remember you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay, I will,\u201d she says, touched by his tears.\n\u201cI\u2019ll tell him you told me to. Thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew weeps for what seems like a long time to\nhim, but is only a minute or so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood to cry,\u201d says Donna, crying a little with\nhim. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you come again tomorrow? At eleven. Then we\u2019ll do lunch again.\nThis is good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chauffeured home by Diana, Andrew gets out of the\ntrusty red Prius and gazes at the house he built forty-five years ago, the\nplace feeling lifeless to him with Luisa gone and the kids at school\u2014Teo and\nRosa fourteen, Jalecia eleven.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have to make some calls before I go to the\nstore and get the kids,\u201d says Diana, stretching her arms to the sky. \u201cYou need\nanything before I go?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Diana is a beautiful Eurasian, fifty-three, British, with raven black hair, a poet and artist and inveterate wearer of T-shirts and blue jeans. She has lived in the other house on the property for ten years, helping with the kids and housework and cooking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew gazes at her, having forgotten in these\nlast few months how much he loves watching her and listening to her speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d she asks, blushing at being so intensely observed.\n\u201cSomething unzipped?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I was just\u2026\u201d He laughs self-consciously. \u201cI\nguess I could use a hug before you go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlways,\u201d she says, coming to embrace him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t ever thank you enough,\u201d he says, relaxing\nin her embrace. \u201cCouldn\u2019t survive without you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes you could,\u201d she says, giving him a good squeeze.\n\u201cBut you don\u2019t have to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Waiting for Diana to get home with the kids, Andrew\nwanders into the living room and sits down at the piano, an exquisite teak\nupright he and Luisa bought twenty years ago to celebrate the success of a\nmovie they wrote\u2014this his first time at the piano since Luisa died. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He plays the first notes of the tune he was\ncomposing when Luisa died and the music makes him cry, but he goes on playing\nuntil the phone rings and he hurries to the kitchen to answer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The caller is his son Owen who is thirty-nine now and\nlives in Vancouver with his wife Miyoshi and their seven-year-old daughter Mimi.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPapa?\u201d he says, sounding like a little boy to\nAndrew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey O,\u201d says Andrew, his son\u2019s voice bringing up more\ntears\u2014the session with Donna having obliterated his floodgates. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust spoke to Diana,\u201d says Owen, who is also still\ngrieving Luisa. \u201cWe were thinking of bringing pizza over there for supper\ntonight. Diana said I should check with you and see what you think.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, great,\u201d says Andrew, making a supreme\neffort to sound positive. \u201cI may not last long tonight, O. Haven\u2019t slept much lately,\nbut I\u2019d love to see you and Yosh and Mimi.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood. I\u2019ll call Diana,\u201d says Owen, thrilled by\nthis first Yes<\/em> from Andrew since\nLuisa died.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew hangs up and has a good long cry, and on\nhis way back to the piano, the phone rings again\u2014Lily, Luisa\u2019s daughter,\ncalling from Los Angeles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u201cHey Papa,\u201d\nsays Lily, who is the same age as Owen. \u201cHow you holding up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d he says, clearing his throat. \u201cHad a good\nsession with Donna today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDonna,\u201d says Lily, the name not registering. \u201cTell\nme again who that is?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe rabbi.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh yeah, the rabbi therapist,\u201d says Lily,\nsounding hurried. \u201cGood. Great. I\u2019ve been going to my therapist every day.\nCan\u2019t believe Mama\u2019s gone. Just can\u2019t believe it. I feel so<\/em> bad I didn\u2019t get up there more often these last few years, but\nI\u2019ve been so crazy busy with the new show and the new house and\u2026 still I should\nhave come before the fucking virus ruined everything. I\u2019m a terrible daughter\nand a rotten mother.\u201d She waits a moment. \u201cYou still there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m here,\u201d says Andrew, startled to realize he has\nnever fully forgiven Lily for leaving her baby with them eleven years ago so\nshe could pursue her acting career unencumbered. \u201cPlease don\u2019t think of\nyourself as a terrible daughter or a rotten mother. If I ever made you feel\nthat way, I apologize.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou<\/em>\napologize?\u201d says Lily, stunned. \u201cI\u2019m the one who fucked up, not you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh Lily, don\u2019t think that,\u201d he says, wishing he\ncould hold her on his lap as he did when she was little and would come to him seeking\nsolace. \u201cYou\u2019re an adventurer. An artist. You gave us Jalecia who is the great\njoy of my life and was your mother\u2019s joy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh Papa,\u201d says Lily, crying, \u201cI want to come\nvisit you and Owen and the kids, but the virus is still out of control here and\nif I came to Canada I\u2019d have to quarantine in some hotel for ten days before I\ncould even start my visit and I\u2019m so busy with\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he says, seeing now that holding the\nvision of Lily as a defiant teenager helped her stay stuck in that idea of\nherself. \u201cWe\u2019ll be together again. All in good time. We will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next morning, Donna settles into her armchair,\nstudies Andrew for a moment and says, \u201cYou look better today. How are you\nfeeling?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI actually slept for a few hours last night,\u201d he says,\ngiving her a sleepy smile. \u201cOwen and Miyoshi and Mimi brought pizza for supper\nand Diana and Rosa made a big salad. Root beer for the kids, wine for the\ngrownups. Quite the shindig. We rioted until nine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you dream?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI did, but I only remember a fragment. Owen was\nin the living room. He was maybe ten, searching for something. He looked under\nthe sofa cushions and then he frowned at me. That\u2019s all I remember.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell it again,\u201d says Donna, knowing what the\ndream is about. \u201cPresent tense.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew closes his eyes and sees young Owen moving\naround the living room, searching for something. \u201cHe\u2019s wearing shorts and a\nT-shirt. Must be summer. He looks under the cushions, looks around the room,\nand now he sees me and gives me a questioning look.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s his question, do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere is she?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Donna considers this. \u201cWhy do you think he\u2019s a boy\nin the dream and not a man?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe seems like a boy to me now,\u201d says Andrew,\nfighting his tears. \u201cA boy who lost his mother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo maybe he knows where she is. Maybe that\u2019s not his\nquestion.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou think he wants to know why she killed\nherself?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course he does. Wouldn\u2019t you if you didn\u2019t\nknow?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t<\/em>\nknow,\u201d says Andrew, shaking his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d she says, nodding slowly. \u201cTell me about\nthe last three years of Luisa\u2019s life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know if I can today,\u201d he says, bowing his\nhead. \u201cI don\u2019t feel well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are your symptoms?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnxious. Achy. Dizzy. Miserable.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat was going on at your house three years ago?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe twins were eleven, Jalecia was eight, Luisa\nand I just turned seventy, Cal and Terry just moved to Hawaii, and Owen and\nMiyoshi were getting their company going with Moon In Leo<\/em> and\u2026\u201d He grimaces. \u201cIt was all too much for Luisa. Too\nmuch to ask of her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cToo much work. Too much going on. She was\noverwhelmed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWere you overwhelmed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d he snaps. \u201cOf course I was.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t remember you being overwhelmed. I\nremember you loved working on the movie and being energized by the experience.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt Luisa\u2019s expense,\u201d he says bitterly. \u201cI was off\nplaying at being a movie director while she was all alone dealing with the\nkids.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlone? What about Diana?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay, yes, Diana was there, but I wasn\u2019t. And it\nwas too much for her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou mean for the few weeks you worked on the\nmovie?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you trying to say?\u201d He feels like he\u2019s\nabout to break in half. \u201cThat it wasn\u2019t<\/em>\ntoo much for her?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not trying to say anything.\u201d She waits a\nmoment. \u201cI want you to tell me the story of the last three years of Luisa\u2019s\nlife. Which is your story, too. I want you to tell me what you remember, not\nwhat you think you did wrong. Just the story of those years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sits up straight and rolls his shoulders to\nloosen the grip of his demons. \u201cI had an amazing four months working with Sakura.\nAnd directing those scenes in Moon In Leo<\/em>\nwas one of the most exciting and fulfilling experiences of my life. And after\nSakura went back to Japan, the plays and stories and songs just came pouring\nout of me and I was in heaven writing them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were reborn.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was reborn.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd Luisa?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe was not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid she resent you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he says, remembering the trip they took\nafter Sukara went back to Japan, the glorious train ride through the Rockies to\nBanff, their elegant suite in the Banff Inn, their long walks in the\nwilderness. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere did you go just now, Andrew?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo Lake Louise,\u201d he says, seeing Luisa reflected\nin the ethereal blue of the lake. \u201cTen days without the kids. Just lolling\naround and taking walks and\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe said she didn\u2019t want to go home. Said she was\ntired of raising children, tired of not having time for anything else. \u2018Can\u2019t\nwe just keep going? Stay in Montreal for a few weeks and then fly to Europe.\nPlease?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI said we\u2019d redesign our lives to travel more and\nI\u2019d do more with the kids and she could do less, but I didn\u2019t want to just\nabandon them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo did you travel more?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBefore the pandemic I tried, but she wouldn\u2019t\ngo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo from then on you and Diana were the parents.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPretty much, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWere the kids confused by Luisa withdrawing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. Especially Jalecia. She was so attached to\nLuisa.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo Luisa withdrew. What did she do all day?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt first she read and watered the garden and went on long drives and\u2026\u201d He strains to remember. \u201cThen she\u2019d suddenly re-engage with the kids and start cooking again and going to soccer games and say, \u2018I\u2019m back. I just needed a break. I\u2019m fine now.\u2019 And that would last a week or two and then she\u2019d withdraw again. And every time she withdrew, she seemed to go further into her aloneness.\u201d He looks at Donna. \u201cThen you referred her to the psychiatrist who prescribed the anti-depressants, which seemed to help at first, but then she started forgetting things. She\u2019d leave something cooking on the stove and wander out into the garden or she\u2019d leave the hose running and flood the garden or she\u2019d come into a room and say, \u2018Why did I come in here? I knew a few seconds ago, but now I have no idea.\u2019 So she stopped taking the meds and withdrew again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd you were writing and composing and taking\ncare of the kids,\u201d says Donna, nodding. \u201cShouldering on without her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot without her,\u201d he says, seeing Luisa in the\ngarden lost in thought. \u201cI spent lots of time with her during the day when the\nkids were at school and at night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat did you do together?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe talked when she was willing to talk. I played\nthe piano for her. We went to the beach. We worked in the garden. Or I worked\nand she daydreamed. I\u2019d make us lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas she still going on long drives?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, she stopped driving. She said it was too\nconfusing. And by then we were staying home because of the virus, so\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo for a year she mostly kept to herself?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMostly,\u201d he says, nodding. \u201cAnd she just got more\nand more depressed, so I arranged for her to have a thorough medical exam and\nthey concluded she was clinically depressed and should be on meds. And when the\ndoctor told us that, Luisa said, \u2018Then I might as well be dead.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow long ago was that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEight months? Seven months? Seems like years ago.\u201d\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid she ask you to help her die?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d he says, closing his eyes. \u201cBut I\ncouldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou thought she\u2019d get better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wanted her to, but I didn\u2019t think she would.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you think she would get better?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe seemed more ghost than alive.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen what happened?\u201d asks Donna, moving from her\nchair to sit with Andrew on the sofa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe stayed in bed for a month and then she got up\nand made a valiant effort to be part of the family again, though it was\nincredibly difficult for her. And then one day she got very upset with the kids\nand threw a glass at Teo that shattered all over the kitchen and she said\nhorrible things to Rosa and screamed at Jalecia, and she felt so terrible about\nwhat she\u2019d done that she went on the meds, and for some weeks she seemed better\nand we had some nice suppers, the whole family, and some good days at the beach\nand then\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe took the car and drove fifty miles north and\nlay down on the sand and cut her wrists and died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew weeps and Donna holds him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When his tears abate, Andrew says, \u201cShe left a note that said burn my unfinished stories and tell the children and Diana I love them. You know I love you<\/em>.\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They have lunch in Donna\u2019s kitchen\u2014chicken soup\nand bread and cheese\u2014neither speaking as they eat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Donna makes coffee to go with their after-lunch\ncookies, and as she pushes down the plunger on her French Press she says, \u201cI\nmay have said this to you before, but it\u2019s worth repeating. Many of us are\nprone to feeling we are responsible for the other\u2019s happiness or for their suffering\nor both. We know intellectually this isn\u2019t true, but as my great teacher Rabbi\nOrenstein used to say, \u2018Our mighty unconscious laughs at our pipsqueak\nintellect and carries on as per usual.\u2019 Unless we break free of our early\nprogramming, which very few people ever do, then that early programming will always\nbe our default response.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think the hardest thing for me,\u201d says Andrew,\nwho feels nearly weightless from shedding so many tears, \u201cis\u2026 well, two things.\nFirst, I had thirty years with Luisa without a day of her being anything but\nhappy to be alive, happy to be engaged in our writing and music and loving our\nchildren, so I wasn\u2019t prepared for how suddenly she changed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the other thing?\u201d asks Donna, pouring him\na cup of coffee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI keep thinking I should do something to make\nthings better for the kids,\u201d he says, smiling sadly. \u201cTo ease their pain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is the illusion, Andrew. You are not<\/em> responsible for their happiness or\ntheir suffering.\u201d She looks at him for a long moment. \u201cYou were<\/em> responsible when they were babies and little children, but they\nare who they are now, and they must suffer the loss of Luisa in their own ways.\nOf course you can help them deal with their sorrow. You can love them and\nlisten to them and let them know you\u2019re there for them. But you can\u2019t keep them\nfrom suffering. And the best<\/em> thing\nyou can do for them now is to embrace life and follow your heart and know that Teo\nand Rosa and Jalecia and Owen and Miyoshi and Mimi and Lily are all watching\nyou and learning from you. Because if you<\/em>\ncan lovingly embrace life, you who lost the love of your life, so will they. And\nso will I.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every day Andrew feels a little less numb, a little less hopeless, and better able to hear and respond to what Teo and Rosa and Jalecia and Diana say to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On a rainy afternoon in November, Andrew and Diana and Jalecia and Teo stand on the sidelines of a soccer field, cheering wildly as Rosa outruns everyone and brilliantly jukes the goalie and scores the winning goal\u2014Andrew falling to his knees and kissing the muddy earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few weeks before Christmas, the kids at school,\nDiana finishes washing the breakfast dishes and carries her tea and notebook\ninto the living room where she sits and listens to Andrew composing a piano\npiece, his search for what comes next inspiring Diana to write her first poem\nsince Luisa died.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Five months later, in April of 2022, the first\ntruly effective vaccine against the virus plaguing humanity is deployed around\nthe world, and Diana and Andrew and Teo and Rosa and Jalecia are among the\nfirst to be inoculated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On a sunny morning in June, Canada having successfully\nvaccinated seventy per cent of her population, the other thirty per cent soon\nto follow, Diana finds Andrew in the garden and tells him that Simon, her\nboyfriend of six years, has left her for another woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a fool,\u201d says Andrew, giving her a\ncomforting hug. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be okay,\u201d she says, lingering in his\nembrace. \u201cI\u2019m mostly worried about how to tell the kids. They love Simon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you want me to tell them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she says, stepping back from him and smiling\nradiantly. \u201cThanks for offering, but I need to do it so they can ask me their\nten thousand questions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Andrew laughs. \u201cMay it only be ten thousand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In July, after a good session in Donna\u2019s studio,\nAndrew and Donna go to lunch at Max\u2019s, the wait staff still masked, the virus\nnot yet entirely eradicated in Canada and still going strong in the United\nStates. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

They split an order of fries and a Reuben sandwich\nand Donna talks about how relieved she is to be free of her rabbi duties and\nhow much fun she\u2019s having creating her book of mini-sermons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been reading through my old sermons,\u201d she\nsays, her cheeks reddening. \u201cHundreds of them. And I am both awed and chagrined\nat how confidently I spouted such well-meaning nonsense and so often missed the\ndeeper truth. So this is my chance to not only be more succinct, but to right\nthe wrongs of my erroneous clich\u00e9s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t wait to read them,\u201d says Andrew, who has recently\nentered a sorrowful phase as the one-year anniversary of Luisa\u2019s death\napproaches. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you will be my editor,\u201d says Donna, smiling\nhopefully, \u201cyou can read them very soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would be honored,\u201d he says, immeasurably\ngrateful to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpeaking of honor,\u201d says Donna, gesturing to\ntheir waitress for the bill, \u201cI would like to have a ceremony for Luisa on the\none-year anniversary of her death. Nothing elaborate. Just lighting a candle\nand saying a prayer and asking everyone to share a memory of her. Just you and\nI and Diana and Owen and Miyoshi and the kids and any friends you\u2019d like to\ninvite.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCould be hundreds,\u201d says Andrew, his eyes filling\nwith tears. \u201cShe was greatly loved.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUp to you, dear,\u201d she says, crying with him. \u201cYou\ntell me who to invite.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In August, twenty people gather in the garden at Andrew\u2019s house to remember Luisa. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Donna lights a candle and says, \u201cWe have gathered\nhere to kiss Luisa\u2019s spirit with our memories of her. I will begin by sharing\nmy favorite Luisa memory, which is that every time I came here to have a meal,\nI would find Luisa in the kitchen and she would give me a smile that meant,\n\u2018Come here and taste this,\u2019 and I would go to her and she would feed me as a\nmother feeds her child, something delicious she\u2019d made, and then we would look\ninto each other\u2019s eyes and be one with each other in our joy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2206<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In October, the kids gone to bed, Andrew and Diana are saying goodnight when Diana surprises Andrew by saying, \u201cHow about we spend the night together? You and me. Just because.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou mean\u2026 share a bed?\u201d says Andrew, who has lately\nbeen enjoying speaking with a Jewish accent. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. Sleep together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy bed or yours?\u201d he says, trying to be funny.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEither one. They\u2019re both nice beds.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would be afraid to do that,\u201d he says, dearly\nloving Diana but considering her taboo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t have to have sex,\u201d she says, her tone suggesting\nshe wouldn\u2019t mind if they did. \u201cI just want to be close to you. I\u2019m tired of\nsleeping alone knowing you\u2019re sleeping alone and we could be keeping each other\nwarm.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf we got in bed together,\u201d says Andrew, his\nheart pounding, \u201cdespite the fact, or because of the fact I haven\u2019t had sex in forever,\nwe would probably have sex. Or we would try. Or I would. Because\u2026 how could I\nnot? And if for some reason whatever happened made you unhappy or uneasy or\ncaused you to leave\u2026 I just\u2026 I don\u2019t ever want that to happen. Not that I haven\u2019t\nthought about making love with you. I have. I do. I\u2019ve always thought you were\u2026\nluscious. But I\u2019m seventy-four. You\u2019re fifty<\/em>-four.\nWe\u2019re best friends. We raised the kids together. I don\u2019t want to lose you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is a gamble,\u201d she says, looking into his eyes.\n\u201cA big gamble. But I still want to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m amazed,\u201d he says, fighting the momentum of\nhis desire. \u201cAnd flattered, but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on, Andrew,\u201d she says softly, knowing he would\nnever initiate their first kiss, and therefore the initiation is up to her.\n\u201cGamble with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

fin<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tender Mystery<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

October 2021. Andrew is seventy-three and a widower now for two and a half months. Having eaten little since Luisa\u2019s death, he is thinner than he has ever been, his gray hair full of white. He sits on the sofa in the cozy one-room studio where Donna, tall and buxom with short red hair and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[858,3066,396,5997,5983,6013,5989,84,5962,5959,5869,5985,51,6012,5973,9,33],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3753"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3753"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3753\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3756,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3753\/revisions\/3756"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3753"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3753"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3753"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}